


What We've Left Behind

by MythicDragonRider



Series: Left Behind Trilogy/Universe [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 10 main characters man what's wrong with me, Because of the AU, British/Australian spelling of words, Human AU, Human Names Used, I'm Bad At Tagging, No canon at all really, No uploading schedule, Short Chapters, There are more characters but they are huge spoilers if I add them, boy - Freeform, get ready for that, it's super angsty btw, plus there's a whole ton of side characters, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:23:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7197764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythicDragonRider/pseuds/MythicDragonRider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Kirkland is missing. Out of sight, not out of mind.<br/>It's been like this since 2005, and now that's it's 2015, his 10 childhood friends are gathering yet again in their hometown. They know Arthur is most likely dead, they know that he's legally so, but there's something there, that makes them unable to stop hoping, and for good reason.<br/>A formerly unseen clue is tossed into their faces by an anonymous texter, and they spiral into a mystery of hurt, longing, and terrible, terrible, wonder.<br/>{1st in Left Behind Trilogy}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Started It All (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> Salutations!  
> This my first fanfiction on this website. It's also posted on fanfiction.net, but I thought to post it here, too.  
> On there, my account name is the same as this one, if you wish to have a look.  
> Since it is the first chapter/prologue, it is much shorter than my other ones, which will be/are about 2,000 words long.  
> Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this first chapter.

Their friend was gone.

More specifically, Arthur was. But... How?  
Arthur had always been so sensible. Arthur had always been so smart. Arthur had always been so organized and prepared. So how had he disappeared from their lives without a single word?

The police said there had been signs of a struggle in the house. But Arthur used to do self-defense classes, back when he was all edgy and even more annoying then usual. ...How had he lost? How had Arthur lost? Why was he gone? Why, why, why, was Arthur gone?

This had echoed through all their heads recently. When they had first found out. During the questioning. During the investigation. During everything. It was all a bad dream. While Arthur had been a pretty irritable guy, it wasn't enough for someone to abduct him. To break into his house. To fight him. To knock him out and tie him up and put him in a car boot and take him to whoever-knows-where. At first, it hadn't been so bad. The police were the police, after all! They would investigate the crime scene, and track down the kidnapper, and put him in jail. Arthur would return, and nothing would change.

But that wasn't what had happened.

Days had passed. Then weeks. Then months. Now, it had been a year. An entire year had passed since Arthur had left. Had been kidnapped, abducted, stolen from them in a single night. Now, hopes had faded, and the group realized properly for the very first time.

Their friend was gone.  
And he wasn't coming back.

They had all reacted differently. Some of them sobbed. Some wept. Some just said nothing and cried privately. But Alfred, who had arguably had been the closest, didn't even cry. He just broke down inside, and hid it from everyone else. He didn't smile for a fortnight. Other people close to Arthur also reacted differently. His 3 brothers, who had seemed to hate him, all seemed to break. Alistair, who was the oldest, seemed to be the most hurt, which was odd, since everyone knew about how much they had seemed to loathe each other. His mother remembered the death of her husband, and sobbed alone.

Even though Arthur, legally, would be alive for years to come, everyone thought him dead.  
Maybe their loss of faith was cruel, or just sensible.  
They would never fully heal. It would always be a permanent scar on their souls.

Arthur had disappeared when he was just 15. 15! Such a life ahead, gone. Arthur had wanted to be an author. He wanted to craft stories with his mind, and bring joy to thousands. He had been inspired by Arthur Conan Doyle, claiming that he was destined to be a great author sharing the same first name as a legend. He would stay up until 12, on the computer. Writing while others would be playing games, or partying, or socializing. His friends had wanted him to get out more, but he had firmly stayed in front of the computer.

He had been abducted when he was home alone. His mother and brothers had gone out to see a play, but Arthur wanted to write. So he had written. And was stolen. And was never coming back.

Sometimes, hope would kindle in them. Sometimes, they thought that maybe he could still come back. But, the hope was gone quickly.

Their friend was gone.  
And still no return.


	2. Dusk and Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once again, they gather together for a not-so-cheery anniversary.

On the 27th of September, 2005, Arthur Kirkland went missing.  
Now, it was 2015, and the anniversary of the day grew nearer with each passing second.

As was routine in the group of 10 friends, Alfred would send out an email to them- using some excuse to meet up in the little town they had lived as teenagers. This year was particularly easy, with the supermoon occurring at the time. But, there had been various odd and even downright idiotic excuses to meet up in the past. None of them had questioned them, of course. Though the real reason was plain as day (and Alfred knew it), they would prefer not to talk about it, at least until it came to the night. This time, it was probably the most reasonable excuse he had used so far, since such an event is rare and, to an outsider, a group of old school friends meeting up to see the supermoon, all the while catching up on their lives, was normal.

But their underlying means were far from normal. Apart from the first horrid anniversary, it had been pretty easy to gather them all at the local park and stay up way into the night, even with the beginnings of dawn emerging at times. The fifth had also been relatively bad, since this marked when he was to be legally declared dead. Now, they were expecting another uncomfortable situation- since a ten year anniversary of a disappearance wasn't something that was pleasant. But, Alfred had stubbornly pledged to himself not to let anyone from their friend group be alone that night- so they weren't. Some flew in from other countries before the email was sent in anticipation of this- those who didn't live in the USA anymore.

Routine enforced Alfred would be the first there. He wouldn't be organised in the slightest, with no picnic blankets or dinner or anything of the sort. Then, the next person would arrive (most usually Matthew or Francis), and they would usually more prepared. They had all fallen into rolls- at least after they graduated. Francis would bring some of the food- he was a gourmet chef, after all. Gilbert and Ludwig would bring the beer, Ivan would bring vodka, Feliciano and Lovino would bring wine (and occasionally an Italian dish they had made together). Yao would also bring food- he was the other chef in their group and owned a Chinese restaurant. Matthew would bring the things everyone forgot, like the picnic blanket and salad and non-alcoholic beverages. Kiku brought the entertainment, just in case. He usually brought manga and the latest handheld device from Nintendo (which had started to feel like a marketing ploy ever since he started working for them).

Alfred, while unprepared, usually brought a Marvel comic in the same marketing ploy as Kiku. After a lot of indecision and confusion, he had decided on Marvel over DC. His digital art skills were excellent- he had wanted to make comics ever since he was 5 years old. So he practiced, doodling secretly in class, studying it at university. It paid off.

The Canadian arrived after Alfred today, laying down the old picnic blanket they had been using since the first time they came to the park. Alfred plucked a can of Coca Cola from the portable cooler that Matthew had brought, and started to drink. They had waited for about 5 minutes when Francis arrived, bringing delicious crepes in trust that Yao and the Vargas brothers could handle the main course. Indeed, Yao brought a delicious-looking dish, all with seasonings and sauces. It made Alfred's mouth water just looking at it. Kiku had a few issues of Death Note and a New Nintendo 3DS. He had various games downloaded on it, and settled to play a bit of Phoenix Wright: Trials and Tribulations while waiting for everyone to arrive. The Vargas brothers brought in an authentic Italian pizza, which also happened to be homemade. Lovino had a strong distaste for fast food pizza, claiming it was a blight upon what Americans considered Italian cuisine, using a colourful vocabulary of English and Italian swear words to describe it. This year, they didn't bring any wine.

The German brothers brought in expensive, quality beer, as usual. Ivan brought in vodka, but Alfred had the feeling he wasn't going to touch it. After all, it was a supermoon, and the Russian astronomer would probably want to be sober to see it. Already, he was happily describing what caused the supermoon, even though Alfred (and probably the rest of them) had no idea what all these science-y words meant.  
Ivan halted his explanation when he realised that no-one really knew what he was talking about.

They chatted for a little bit about small talk. A lot had changed in a year. Matthew's rank in professional ice hockey had increased yet again. He said that if he worked really hard, then he could play for Canada in the PyeongChang Winter Olympics in 2018. Kiku supposedly had big news about something Nintendo was making, but wasn't allowed to tell anyone. He seemed very excited for it. Yao was nervous about a restaurant that had recently opened around his, which seemed to be reasonable competition. Alfred was eagerly talking about a new game he was playing, called Undertale. Ludwig had to keep denying that Phoenix Wright was accurate compared to being a real lawyer. Feliciano had brought his old Polaroid- rather than his new work-issued one and took a picture of them all, much like he had on meet-ups before. Despite that they weren't talking about anything overly important, there still was that underlying discomfort that no-one dared to address.  
Soon, they all quietened down. They knew what was coming next. Just a few more moments...

"...I can't believe it's been 10 years," Alfred muttered.

There it was. It was always Alfred who said it.  
There was an uncomfortable silence that was ensured to follow the statement. The next person was going to be Francis.

"Neither can I," the Frenchman replied.

An air of melancholy overtook, and they said nothing. Nothing needed to be said for now. It was only the beginning of the dreaded topic, and there was plenty of time for heated conversations and comforting and even tears later. After this silence, routine was thrown out the window. Anything could happen, and that's what made it terrifying.

"...Look at us. Every time, like this. We're like a bunch of old men thinking back on our lives," Kiku commented.  
Gilbert snorted, "Well, I certainly know one old man with us. Talking 'bout you, Yao."  
"Hey! I'm barely older than you!" Yao protested.

They all chuckled. Humour was a good way to start off one of these conversations. It died down quickly, and the less pleasant aspects that were inevitable in these types of conversations was fast approaching.

Alfred looked down, "I-"  
"No! You're not going to say what you were about to say. Every time, you say that, and every time it has the same result!" Lovino cut in.  
"That doesn't make it any less true!" snapped Alfred.  
Lovino snarled, "Well maybe if-"  
"Both of you, shut up! Alfred, we all know what you were going to say, and you're not going to say it. Lovino, maybe you should try being a little more polite," Ludwig interrupted them.

"Well, fine! I'm not going to say it, because apparently you all know what it was, even if I was going to say something completely different!" Alfred huffed.  
Francis sighed, "Every time you say it. And now, even though you didn't this time, you created unnecessary conflict! Why can't we just not squabble like 4-year-olds, and instead try to be mature by talking without raising our voices."  
Silence enveloped everything, and Francis realised that he had just said something uncannily similar to what Arthur would in this situation. If he wasn't...

Yao closed his eyes, "Why? Why do we always do this, argue over nothing? It's been 10 years, and we still can't address the subject at hand without snapping at each other's throats or hide in the endless silences between our words. Why can't this just change, why can't we just let everything go? And, dammit, Alfred. Why won't you just say why we're really meeting in our emails? ...Why do we keep coming, and cancel our commitments, and make excuses to others, and waste money just to see each other? But, I think we can't answer these questions, despite how much we want to.

"The true answer could be explained by psychology. After all, childhood trauma isn't something that just fades away. It stays with you for your entire life. And, when we ask ourselves these questions, we don't actually want the answers, despite telling ourselves we do with all our hearts. I think, when we ask ourselves these, we're just filtering out the bigger question at hand. The question that we still hold firmly in our minds, the question that will probably never be answered. Why did our friend, Arthur Kirkland, disappear? Yes, I just said his name. It gives you chills, doesn't it? Because... Because we still can't let go. And we never will. So, I'll leave you with one last question that we really should know the answers to already. Why won't everything change?"

The Chinese man's outburst shocked everyone. He had always seemed wise far beyond his years. As if he was thousands of years old instead of just in his twenties. But this just seemed a little ridiculous. Yet, he had a point, albeit one with confusing origins. They realised he had completely quenched all arguments between them. And, though none of them looked close enough to notice, he had tears shining on his face. As did a lot of them.

They noticed that the supermoon had come out. They were so busy arguing and contemplating their philosophical and psychological condition, they had completely forgotten about it.

Ivan immediately launched into another long speech about the supermoon. They clung onto every word of his, trying to push aside what they had just heard, at least for now.

Maybe they were a little afraid.


	3. Hope Is Found in Strange Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected clue is received, and they do not know how to handle it.

After Ivan had finished his rather invigorated digress on the supermoon lunar eclipse, they all realised they had not yet eaten.

Indeed, the food was outstandingly delicious, and they found themselves thanking the 4 chefs profusely. It was clear that these dishes were not only made by expert fingers, but a lot of effort and spirit had gone into them. It always seemed this way, on the 27th. When they would visit them (or their restaurant) at any other time, the food tasted as if it hadn't been made with such passion and vigor. No-one said anything about it, but they all knew it. Like most conversation topics on that day. After they had finished and given their copious thanks, they continued with the small talk. It felt a bit like running away, as it would.

The park actually had a lot more people than usual at that time, undoubtedly to view the eclipse. It was dotted with other parties, sitting atop their picnic blankets, gazing up towards the sky and eating and talking. This was a little disconcerting to Alfred. This night had always been their private night, and now this night had been intruded upon. Well, that was a bit condescending of him. Why should they miss out on a rare lunar event just so the group could mourn in a fashion done 9 times before? Yes, he'd just have to stop being greedy.

The stellar works didn't belong to them and their loss.

Actually, it wasn't exclusively their loss, either. Excluding Arthur's family and other friends, his disappearance was a well-known event in the town's recent history. The town was small and very little went on it. Crime was minimal; with only a few pickpockets and shoplifters and swindlers dotted about. A disappearance was huge deal. Especially for someone so young, with such a bright future ahead of him. And, it had signs of struggle, signs of being unwilling. This created huge ripple effects, with the possibility of a kidnapper, an abductor, in their tiny town. The local police hadn't really dealt with anything beyond carjacking and embezzlement, let alone a missing person.

A lot of the townspeople still remembered this, and knew perfectly well why the 10 were in the park together. A few sent pitying glances their way, but they did their best to ignore them. Pity couldn't bring him back, and it just seemed to make things worse.

Their small talk was slowing down to a halt, and they found themselves silent. Together, they gazed up at the moon and the stars and the unfathomable blackness. Together, they shared a night so similar yet so different. Together, they bore the loss among themselves, and the despair and pain and hopeless faded like a well-worn photograph- still there, but much less hard to see.

Then, their fragile tranquility was shattered, like so many raindrops on a wind-whispering night.  
A single text-alert sounded out, a blip of a somewhat cheerful tune signifying a new message received on Alfred's phone. The American furrowed his brow. Most people who knew him were aware of the significance of this night, and typically left him alone. Only some people at his job and a few miscellaneous others didn't know why he would prefer to be left to his own devices that night, and if they weren't close enough to know about Arthur, then they wouldn't really have the need to text him without warning on a random night.

Nevertheless, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and turned it on, eyes skimming the message he had received. His breath hitched when he began to understand the message, and he searched hungrily down the rest of it until it finished with an unknown link.  
He could feel his pulse quickening as he took in what it meant. That wasn't possible, it couldn't be! ...Could it? It was a suspicious message from an unknown number with no certification it was real. But, he began to feel his hopes rising, and desperately attempted to cram them down. It didn't work.

By now, Francis (who was sitting next to him) had noticed his strange behaviour. The Frenchman frowned in confusion, "What does it say?"  
Alfred didn't reply, so Francis leaned over to read the message. His reaction was similar to Alfred- disbelief and confusion and slight, inescapable hope.  
For what it said seemed a cruel joke on this day.

'Hello there.  
The receiver of this message should be Alfred F Jones, and it would be much appreciated if you could pass this onto your friends, too.  
I've something to say about this particular day- and, yes, it does have to do with your little friend, Arthur Kirkland.  
It was a shame what happened to him. He had such a bright future ahead of him, too!  
Yet, I've tracked down this article that you might find interesting. Perhaps it will help if you decide to go looking for him...?  
Regards, a mere observer.'

Below, there was a link. Alfred wasn't sure what it lead to. It was probably just a cruel trick, leading him to some sick joke regarding Arthur's disappearance. It could lead to basic information that they already know. But... Couldn't it lead to something relevant? Something that could help save Arthur? ...Something that could lead them to him?

Francis stammered, "I-It's probably just a trick. Nothing to get flustered over..."  
Alfred nervously tapped his fingers against the edge of the phone, "Yeah... Y-You're probably right."  
Regardless, Alfred still felt a strong urge to tap the link. To visit the page that probably-doesn't-but-actually-might have something to do with a 10-year-old cold case.

By now, everyone else had noticed this curious behaviour and looked on to see what the message said. None of them weren't shaken.  
The American tried for a nervous grin, "Heh... What a s-stupid prank. I'm going to look... Just... To see."  
Before anyone could object, Alfred thumbed the unknown link on the screen. It opened up to his web browser, loading up an undisclosed website. After a few seconds of whatever-it-was loading up, they found themselves on a blog post, on some skeptic, conspiracy website on the dusty corners of the net. It seemed recent, only 2 or 3 months old. Alfred was about to make some remark on how dumb it was, until he read the title.

'The Strange Case of the September 27th Disappearances'

His hand started shaking, and he almost dropped the phone. Disappearances, as in, more than one? Someone other than Arthur had disappeared on the 27 of September? ...Or maybe even more?  
Before he could second-guess anything, he began to read it, fervently gathering up all the information in an attempt to make some sense out of all of this.

'So, this conspiracy is pretty popular, but most websites are really outdated, so I'm going to make a master-post of all the old info, plus some new stuff.  
Basically, this all started on September 27, 2005. In California, a 15-year-old named Arthur Kirkland went missing in the small town he and his family were staying in (they moved there from England). Already, this raises some red flags. I mean, this town was really, really, tiny, and basically no extreme crimes existed there at all. But, one night, Arthur goes missing, with basically no evidence except some signs of a struggle in his house.

Skip to 2006. These two guys living in Australia, who were both around 15, disappear. They're called Jett Kirra and Kaelin Takarei (Jett's from Australia but Kaelin's from New Zealand). And, it's on the exact same day as Arthur. Oh, and these two knew each other and were friends. So, you're probably already really skeptical about this, but there's more...

In 2007, a 17-year-old named Heracles Karpusi goes missing in Greece, on the same day. In 2008, an 18-year-old named Emma Maes (who lived in Belgium), also goes missing on the 27th. Roderich Edelstein goes missing next in 2009, at 19, and in the USA (he used to live in Austria, but he moved). In 2010, Lin Xiao-Mei and Xiao Chun Li (living in Hong Kong- with Mei having moved from Taiwan) disappear, at 20 years old and knowing each other well. Toris Laurinaitis from Lithuania goes missing in 2011, at 21. Next, Emil Steilsson (from Iceland but living in the USA) disappears, at about 21. Im Yong Soo from South Korea is next, at about 23. Finally, in 2014, a 20-year-old name Angelique La Mer, who lived in Seychelles, disappears.

Now, this is a lot of information, so I'll condense it.  
2005: Arthur Kirkland, 15, USA, California (moved from England)  
2006: Jett Kirra and Kaelin Takarei, both 15, Australia (Kaelin moved from New Zealand), knew each other  
2007: Heracles Karpusi, 17, Greece  
2008: Emma Maes, 18, Belgium  
2009: Roderich Edelstein, 19, USA (moved from Austria)  
2010: Lin Xiao-Mei and Xiao Chun Li, both 20, Hong Kong (Mei moved from Taiwan), knew each other  
2011: Toris Laurinaitis, 21, Lithuania  
2012: Emil Steilsson, 21, USA (moved from Iceland)  
2013: Im Yong Soo, 23, South Korea  
2014: Angelique La Mer, 20, Seychelles

This is an obvious pattern. Okay, so 3 people were taken from the USA. Arthur, from California, and Roderich and Emil (whose states I don't know). Twice did two people disappear, and both times they were in the same country and knew each other. The ages differ, but they usually follow a pattern- as the years progress, they generally get bigger. It is more males then females, with 9 males and 3 females.

Whatever this is, it's huge. I would go into what could be the cause, but a lot of skilled people have already covered that. I'm just here stating the facts for you to think upon. If the pattern keeps on, then there should be another one this year, on the 27th. It could be from any country.'

Once he had finished reading it, Alfred couldn't believe what he was seeing. This couldn't be real, could it...? In a desperate attempt to prove it wrong, he hopelessly googled some of the so-called victims. Jett and Kaelin, real. Taking a shaky breath, he continued. Heracles, real. Emma, real. Roderich, real (and had been living in Oregon, which the article didn't feel the need to explain). Before he could continue, he put the phone down in an attempt to steady himself. He realised that tears were running down his face. This was all fake, it was all a hoax! It had to be... It must... Be...

The others were just as shocked, if not more, as him. They couldn't believe it, no... It was impossible. They still hadn't said anything else, as if not acknowledging the issue made it magically disappear.  
With only a tiny doubt in his heart, Alfred slowly googled the rest. Mei and Leon, real. Toris, real. Emil, real (and had been living in Washington). Yong Soo, real. Angelique.

Real.

Heaving a sob, Alfred dropped the phone. Its screen cracked and instantly powered off, seemingly broken.

They all sat in shocked silence. Arthur's disappearance... It was so much bigger than they ever could've thought. So much larger... So much more terrifying. But... Was that hope? Cradled weakly in their fearful hearts? If... If there was so much more, then there was room for an investigation right? Room for a look-see into this mystery, room for an analysis. Room... Room for a possibility. A possibility that, their friend, Arthur Kirkland was still alive. Heart still beating. Still alive.

Still not dead.

There is a time in everyone's life in which they must determine their fate, between two equally huge possibilities. Whether they are aware of this depends on the circumstances. It may be at the very start or very end, or right in the middle. It may be as something small as deciding which way to take home, or something as large as whether or not to murder someone. This was that moment, resonating within them. This was that choice, shared between 10 people, at one place, under a bright, bright sky.

Truly, to ignore this was to be condemning Arthur to whatever fate awaited him. It was just running away. It was as real as actual murder. But, if they were to take action... Then, what would happen to them? Would they spend years on this breadcrumb trail, just to find out Arthur was dead? Would they be killed themselves, or captured? How much were they willing to give? How much of their life? How much of their dreams and aspirations and achievements?

Slowly, they all looked at each other. This was it. This was that moment. The moment that had been coming since Arthur had been cruelly torn out of their lives in a single night.

Would they betray Arthur, or would they hurt themselves?  
Their eyes held the answer.

They were all taking the long way home.

"It's easy to forget that most of your memories happened in places that are still around,  
the walls mostly unchanged,  
with even some of the same people,  
who carry on in your absence.  
But the world you once knew,  
and the people you still remember,  
have long since moved on,  
replaced by so many others who passed through these doors.

We just want to mark our time here,  
to keep the rooms and the memories alive.  
And if our houses are haunted,  
it'll be because we're haunting them ourselves,  
as if there was ever such a thing as unfinished business." -John Koenig, Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows


	4. How to Plan a Roadtrip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo!  
> Sorry I've been gone, I kinda forgot I was also publishing it on here.  
> ...Do I still have any readers?
> 
> I'll post another chapter tomorrow.

Chapter 4

Tracking down a kidnapper was plenty harder than it seemed in movies.  
Firstly, even though it was much, much more than they would've possibly dreamed of before, there was still little evidence. They had attempted a bit more research on the conspiracy, but most of it was just mindless speculation, so they had given up reasonably fast.  
Looking up 'September 27 2015' had landed them an extremely recent news story. In Spanish. Despite the foreign language- they had deducted (with a little bit of creativity) that another male, Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, had gone missing. This only worried them more- extra evidence meant extra chances of a proper case, and not just a line of sickeningly-humourous similar kidnappings and copy-cats.

They were all still extremely shaken. Shaken to the core. But, they had to do this... For Arthur. For their dear, lost friend.  
For their own twisted need to rid the lack of closure.

Yet, what does one do when caught in a situation like this? They all had jobs, homes, lives... Would they just throw them away so easily? It wasn't as if a professional ice hockey player, or a restaurant's head chef, or an in-demand doctor could just take a little holiday. How would Matthew, Yao, Gilbert, and all the others just leave? Besides, even if they do take their little supply of vacation days, they may not last. Who knows how long this might go on? Days? Weeks? Months? ...Years?  
It was all so laughable. Here they were, willing to throw away everything they've worked for, to look for friend who has been missing 10 whole years, and was probably...

No. He wasn't dead- at least not in their minds. As long as there was possibility, there was hope.

All they needed was Hope.

Two weeks, they had decided.  
They would give themselves two weeks.

They had two weeks to prove that this wasn't a cold trail. They had two weeks to find evidence substantial enough to let the police handle the rest. They had two weeks, and the clock was ticking down already.

After a lot of friendly (and not-so-friendly) negotiating, they had all managed to land a break from their ever-relevant jobs. Their excuses weren't 'there's a tiny scrap of vague evidence that my childhood friend who disappeared 10 years ago is still alive', but rather holidays and breaks-they-needed-so-much-the-stress-was-just-getting-to-them-they-only-needed-two-weeks-please.  
There goes their proper holidays.

But even after their rather tiring bout of arguing and tempting and convincing, they still didn't really have a proper plan. Where to start? They only had two weeks, and so little evidence, plus-

By the time they had finished all these phone calls and fretting and doubting, it was rather late into the night, the supermoon already well gone. Only when Ivan nervously pointed this out did they actually get back on track.

After some timid discussion, they had decided to go back to Yao's house- the only one who still lived in the town- and look at all this under lamplight and other resources that might be a bit easier to use inside rather than under the ethereal night-heavens.  
Two people hesitated to leave the stars behind, both with radically different reasons.

Before they even consider a plan, an uneasy tone took over the atmosphere of Yao's house. It was a rather nice place- all cosy and warm and homely- but that still didn't distract from the horrid topic at hand.

"...So. What are we going to do...?" Francis was the one to nervously start off.  
Alfred looked down, "Um. We don't really have that much evidence to think about, or much time... So, I suppose we could maybe start with the people who lived in the USA...?"

After a while, they had managed to formulate a soft-of plan.  
Firstly, they would pay a visit to the people who had been close to Roderich and Emil. From them, they would probably talk to them about what happened in detail, and maybe even swap ideas, if they were open-minded...?

After a little research, they had found out a rather close childhood friend to Roderich- Elizabeta Héderváry- who owned a diner in Oregon. Just a little stop by, a bit of questioning and other chat, and then (if they had found nothing huge), they would move on to Washington.

Emil was a bit harder to track down- oh, dear, all this felt a bit creepy- but they had eventually discovered (with a tad bit of improvisation), that Emil had had an older brother by the name of Lukas. They also had three other friends who seemed pretty close, so they'd help with their little investigation, too. Curiously, they were all from Scandinavian countries.

And after that... Well, there wasn't really an after that, despite, by then, they'd still be way under their time limit. By then, they'd have found a proper link that they could hand over to the police...

Or they were going to turn up with nothing.

One day they spent planning a hasty trip. They did a lot of creative thinking, as none of them had planned to extend this trip to two weeks, and had only packed a few changes of clothes.

Yao's car was being used- with only slight complaints- and fuel and food would be payed for in alternating turns, as was for wherever they would stay. Everything felt so rushed when it didn't need to be, but...  
They wanted to save their friend, even if it took away from them. Even if it took away from them considerably.

One day, extremely soon, they were going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what- and they were slightly scared for it.


	5. The Girl with Special Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just watched Logan. Life has no meaning.  
> Oh, boy- now we're getting to the good stuff! I hope you enjoy this chapter, some interesting things happen... Don't worry, all the weird stuff is intended.

Chapter 5

A road trip is usually a pleasant thing- that is, if you're not looking for a long-missing friend with little evidence.  
Most of them had been unable to sleep that night. Alfred had done a little research on the missing people to see if they were connected in any way, but the little information he could access through news articles and shady conspiracy websites wasn't enough. Francis had looked for information on those whose relatives they were visiting. Roderich Edelstein- the Austrian-who-had-moved-to-Oregon, had a childhood friend called Elizabeta. She owned a popular restaurant, so she was easy enough to find. The Icelandic-who-had-moved-to-Washington, Emil Steilsson, had a half-brother called Lukas Nielssen and three other friends. This was only found out through news articles. Luckily, Lukas was a little-known author, although small, and owned a website. If they found nothing at Elizabeta's restaurant, they would comment on there and ask for a meet-up.

This all held an unnerving similarity to stalking, but they weren't breaking the law, and it was for good intentions, so Alfred reckoned it was fine.  
Hopefully.

The others were frustratingly useless, and found themselves doing knowingly fruitless research, pacing around, or attempting to sleep. Ludwig had pondered over whether they should contact the police. But, Alfred was stubbornly insisting they shouldn't. It just came down to the fact that he trusted no-one but himself and his friends. And...

They had been useless for far too long. It was stupid, dangerous and brash not to contact professionals...  
But, they wanted to feel as if they had saved Arthur, not just the police.

So, they found themselves driving to Oregon. Yao's car couldn't fit ten people, but Alfred always drove on their meet-ups, so they split up in two cars. Yao, Kiku, Ivan, Gilbert and Ludwig in Yao's, and Alfred, Matthew, Francis, Feliciano and Lovino in Alfred's. They had set off at around 8, eager to get on the road as quickly as possible.

In Alfred's vehicle, it quickly became apparent that this was not going to be an easy trip. The American had put on some 'tunes', much to the exasperation of the others. They had only gone through a few annoyingly catchy pop songs before Matthew, the other person in the front of the car, gave in to the others requests and his own desires, turning off the music. Alfred would've complained, but he knew that, if even the Canadian was so annoyed as to stop the tunes, then he wouldn't get very far arguing.

There was a tense silence for a few minutes, which seemed to be even worse than the horrible music. So, Feliciano had hurriedly started a conversation. Small talk. It was a basic but effective distraction, never failing at their yearly gatherings, and not now, either. After a bit of talking, they permitted the radio, but made sure it was a station that was to all their liking. Which took a while.  
A similar thing had happened in Yao's car, but with baffingly obscure indie music.

After stopping for lunch at a cafe, and driving for more hours, they finally arrived in the town that Roderich had lived in. By then, it was getting too late to have a proper conversation with Elizabeta. Her restaurant doubled as a bar, so it was open late, but they didn't want to talk about disappearing friends and possible evidence so late, no matter how eager they were.  
They settled for the night at a motel- there was enough funds between them to easily afford hotel rooms, but the town wasn't big enough to have one. Also, Alfred claimed it 'really felt like they were on a case', like in Supernatural or another paranormal American show.

That night was tense and quiet.

In the morning, they didn't hesitate, getting ready and out the door as quickly as possible. By the time they arrived at Elizabeta's cafe, it had only just opened.  
Exchanging glances, they paused for a second outside the humble building. Their fate was before them- either Elizabeta somehow had information on the disappearances, or there was only one chance left.

It wasn't as if it would find them.

They entered the currently rather deserted cafe. The owner looked up at them as the bell rung, clearly rather surprised at such a large group of customers so early on in the day. After a tense beat of hesitation, the Hungarian approached the 10. Her long brown hair was tied back messily in a ponytail, and her bright green eyes were determined yet slightly welcoming. She wore a simple green blouse and tan pants, eyebrow raised at the inexplicably large amount of men who had just arrived at our cafe.  
Maybe it would've been less awkward to leave some people at the motel. But, they were all wanting to solve this mystery, and it was doubtful anyone would volunteer to stay behind.

After a bit of small talk and getting comfortable, they found themselves seated. There were a few assorted pastries and sweets among them, as well as Alfred sipping on his necessary morning coffee. Soon, other customers began arriving, and their conspicuous numbers became a little less noticeable.  
Of course, it would be a bit awkward to go up to someone and ask them about their missing childhood friend after you just met them. They were some of the most relevant people who could testify to that statement. The press needed to learn some new techniques.

And, it wasn't like they could waltz into a cafe and not buy anything. That would just be rude. And, politeness turned into relaxation, and a rather awkward time when it's been too long to ask Elizabeta because now she's busy-  
Maybe they should've thought this through a little more. If anything, they should wait until much later in the day when it's settled down and they can continue their conversation even after the shop has closed... But, they simply weren't patient enough for that.

Simply put, they were in one of those mundane conundrums that all boiled down to a lack of convenience. Usually caused by yourself.  
Alfred would probably go onto to his phone in an effort to distract himself, but, well... His phone was broken. He had borrowed Mattie's when he had needed to call his boss and ask for a two-week break, but even he could sense the unwavering tense mood.

Suddenly, Elizabeta stomped up to them. She slammed a folded piece of paper onto the table, and whispered urgently to them, "I know why you're here. Come back once I've closed- we can talk then."

They weren't supposed to be here. The shadow thing thought so, at least.

When she first saw them, though, that feeling had gone through her. The one she's felt since she was little. At Roderich, and at that little boy, and at the girl with the blood on her face.  
At the shadow when she's alone.

It tells her things. It wants her to know things, or it simply is trying to butter her up. Elizabeta doesn't trust it. Of course, most people would have common sense enough not to trust things in the dark with dangerous words of times past. If not for one thing, Elizabeta would've gotten psychiatric help. Most people don't see shadows that promise of things. Especially if it was just after a close friend's disappearance. Especially if it didn't go away.

You shouldn't trust every single monster that tells you your eyes are special.

And the things it tells certainly are odd. It tells her that the 10 weren't supposed to find out until a year away. A whole year. Well, actually, 364 days. It's really the 27th of September, 2016. According to the thing. Apparently, there was an unexpected variable. Someone- or possibly, something- who was supposed to be just an observer, who broke an oath.  
She doesn't know why it tells her all this. She doesn't understand. She doesn't want to understand.

But, she can't help but ignore all forms of her common sense. Why did it feel less like a curse and more like a gift? Even though she's resisted the deal it wants to make with her, it's there... Most people don't get a chance like this. Maybe, just maybe, she'll make the deal. Probably not. It's good to have your options open. Good to be able to bring back your childhood friend.

All it needed was her eyes. All it needed was her eyes, and something else.

It was an odd day, awaiting the talk with Elizabeta.

It went fast, and slow. It felt off. All they were doing was impatiently roaming around the little village. They had given up on all that research. Besides, Elizabeta's vague statement had affected more than they dare admit.

The piece of paper was probably the most curious part. It held a desperate scribble of some sort of monster. It was almost childish, it's body mostly composed of scrawled-on pencil lead. But, there was something simply uncanny about it. A feeling, like they were on the verge of something very, very important.

Something bigger than they could ever imagine just for a childhood friend, he who they desperately wanted back. They didn't understand the stakes, here. All except one of the 10.

\---

It sings of his importance in more ways then one.  
Arthur Kirkland.

He's so important-he's so important-he's so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so

very

important

The girl with the special eyes sees things she doesn't want to. It hurts her. She cries when she sees the things. The shadow said she could give it up, and gain back a doomed one, at the same time. It would be the perfect deal.

If not for the extra variable.

So, she resists temptation and looks after the same cafe everyday and wonders about why they made a certain exception for Emil Steilsson.  
She laughs and weeps when she looks upon the little boy among them. He's broken. But, somehow, there is that morality left. She wonders if he'll be able to resist the girl with the blood on her face and the little boy.

She wants to be blind to it all. Please take away my sight. I didn't want to see.

Let me live.  
I want him back.

I don't care for Arthur Kirkland, but he's more important than me. I must be a fool. I must be dim. I must...

...

The 10 are so fate-bound to Arthur! I can't handle it anymore! They've increased everything, especially that one with the missing two, and the stars, and the smile. He is not the one who sees the girl with the blood on his face, but it seems anyone who dares look up at the night sky is doomed.

I can't handle this anymore!  
When they've gone, you can take away my sight.  
You can take Roderich from the otherplace.

You can take it all away.


	6. Lies and Slander AND Look to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She tells no truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally this was two different chapters on ff.net, but I thought to merge them since they're a bit short on their own and are about the same thing.

Chapter 6

**PART 1**

When Alfred entered the cafe, he felt something uncanny.  
There had always been something like that with Alfred. When he entered places, when he met people. Mostly the latter- in fact, when he had met his friends, it had been there quite prominently. But different for each. Like, colours, but with sensations.  
The colour-sensations had been nothing more than a strange feeling, passing in a second. Except Arthur.

Arthur's perception was a deep green in sensation and lingered far longer. It was deeper and broader than he could even begin to perceive, so even though the twinge was more-different-than-usual, he didn't give it much more than a little thought.  
But there was something far different about Arthur, and deep down in his gut, it made him scared. Only slightly, though. Not enough for him to be properly conscious of it.

So, Alfred wasn't too shocked to feel it. In fact, he had been expecting it a little- his senses of strangeness had begun to become more and more frequent leading up to and on this trip.  
When they entered the quiet cafe, Elizabeta was sitting alone at one of the tables, head bowed. She seemed so lonely... ...and defeated somehow? Alfred awkwardly shuffled up to her, followed by their ridiculously large group.  
She looked up and stared right into Alfred's eyes as if challenging him. The intensity of the focused glare made him hesitate, wondering if they had done something wrong, or had made a mistake to come here. But she didn't express any complaints, instead saying, "Sit down. This may be a long talk."

There were so many mixed emotions around Elizabeta that Alfred was slightly worried, but he sat down before her nonetheless, accompanied by the other nine.  
After a brief period of silence, he couldn't handle the tension anymore.  
"Uh... Why did you tell us to come here? Do you know about our... ...circumstances?"  
He found that his inquiry was more eloquent than he would normally put it, but wasn't an average situation.  
"Yes, I do. You ten are here because the anniversary of Arthur Kirkland's disappearance recently passed. You came across some strange information, and decided to investigate by talking to me and four others, in hopes that we, also as people who had loved ones be abducted on the 27th of September."

Her summary of recent events had been so accurate that it was highly uncomfortable, and Alfred found himself squirming in his seat.  
Yao had the bravery to continue, "Well, firstly, how do you know so much?"

"You really do have a small sense of the world, don't you?"  
Elizabeta Héderváry replied with a question.  
"H-Huh?" said the original question-asker.  
"It's just that... You're coming in here for answers. Don't you think I might want answers, too?"  
"Well... Of course. It's just that you just said quite accurate summary of our circumstances... How did you know this?"  
The Chinese man asked.

And the Hungarian looked as if she wanted to cry, laugh and scoff all at the same time.  
"Alright, I will answer your questions for now. I know of you because I was told."  
"By who?" was the query Matthew quickly inputted.  
"Someone mysterious texted you, right? That happened to me, as well. They linked me to an article. And they also told me of you. They told me that you'd me coming, soon, and that I should talk to you."  
The Canadian didn't seem quite satisfied with that answer.

"Um... Okay. So... Do you know anything else? Like... What was that picture?" said a mildly disappointed Yao.  
"That's what the person texted me. Something similar, at least. My phone broke. I dropped it out of shock."  
It was like she was reading what had happened to them from an invisible book.  
"I'm sorry... I don't know much. I asked you to come here because I thought you knew something. I-I wanted to..."

Crocodile tears...?  
Alfred F. Jones couldn't tell the difference anymore- and though that delphic girl was so awfully suspicious, he couldn't help but trust her with an unconscious and unwilling hope that she was telling the truth.

All of them, in that cafe, knew she was aware of more.  
They sat in silence, almost daring each other to act upon it.  
Her eyes told them to leave her in peace, that they didn't want to know.  
And it came down to an Alfred who wanted a fraction more, and opened his mouth to ask a question.

"Are you sure... You don't know any more?"  
And the girl with sad eyes replied half-heartedly with a "I'm sure."  
They weren't convinced.

"Please..."  
It was an unexpected plea, coming from someone who wanted so much more. Feliciano Vargas had uttered a single word, eyes averted, nervous and unsure.  
Why was he brave in that instant?

And the girl with those sad eyes replied.  
"I'm sorry... I can't tell you any more. You'll figure out the rest on your own, trust me. Because... If I tell you, more people then you could ever know will be affected. So, could you please go on to where Emil Steilsson once was? It's likely you'll find answers there, but if you don't, come back to me and the odds will be tested.  
Also... One more thing. Could you be brave? It's bigger than you know... Or could even expect... So it's best if you be brave, and don't lose sight of what's truly important. I know that seems so strange and ambiguous, but I can't risk saying more."  
Those words undoubtedly came from the heart, and everyone in that cafe knew it.

They left her.  
She followed them with her eyes as they left, and they so full of so many emotions that it was terribly tragic.  
Elizabeta Héderváry had given them confusion and lies. She had told them what they had already knew and had simply dashed their expectations. But, amongst all that, there was something hidden at the heart of it all.

Curiousity had pulled them into all this, mostly, but it was fading and something was left, undoubtedly.

It was hope.

**PART 2**

Sixteen Years Ago

Elizabeta couldn't sleep.  
After all, her friends were over! Mellie and Phoebe and Grace and Roderich. He was the only boy, but he didn't mind. Roderich didn't really hang out with the other boys, anyway, because of some-reason-or-other, probably involving piano. He played piano a lot, and seemed to judge people who didn't play an instrument...  
She whispered, "Are you guys still awake?"  
Phoebe replied immediately, "Of course! It's still only, like, 8."  
Grace groaned, "That's too late... Why are you still talking?"  
Mellie's quiet yet cheerful giggle could be heard, "I don't wanna sleep."  
Of course, Roderich replied with a disgruntled, "I'm trying to sleep. Be quiet."

He wasn't all that intimidating, especially so when he was half-asleep. But, Elizabeta's mum was one of those who couldn't condone talking late at night, and they didn't want to get in trouble, as they had last time over.  
So after a hushed warning from Elizabeta, they were all quiet, and the Austrian achieved the silence he desired.  
Roderich really was her best friend. She was usually quite boy-ish (as a nine-year-old would think of the term), and Roderich oft bore with her. Her female friends could get a little disgruntled, but he didn't really mind.

She dreamt that night.

"It makes you wish you could look around with fresh eyes, and feel things just as powerfully as you did when you felt them for the first time. Before expectation, before memory." -John Koenig, Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows.

Eight Years Ago

Elizabeta couldn't sleep.  
She didn't have the time to sleep! After all, this English paper was due tomorrow, and that Science assessment was due in a couple of days so she should probably get started on it, and she was considering studying for the Maths test tomorrow even though she already had, thoroughly. There wasn't enough information crammed in her head yet, despite the fact it was so full it was almost bursting.

And she angrily typed up the themes of Russian literature, her phone buzzed. She ignored it, knowing that whoever was attempting to talk to her in such a stressful time should back off and come back later if it was so important.  
But, they just wouldn't stop, and after the 11th consecutive buzz, she grabbed her phone and flipped it open violently, challenging whoever dared to interrupt her hasty typing.

Of course, it was Roderich.  
He had absolutely no sense of other people, and was probably texting her because he had just finished all the assessments in A+ condition, and had played La Campanella five times in a row, and was sipping tea with his pinky up in an attempt to be sophisticated.

...She was being a bit too harsh. Roderich was snobbish and a hypocrite, but at least he had standards. And was unexpectedly smart. And knew quite a fair bit about life (except how people are).  
Elizabeta smiled a little when she realised they were mostly passive-aggressive words of encouragement hidden in a snobbish deluge. She snorted and replied, before getting back to her work.

"Stop interrupting me! You have better things to do, like playing piano in a condescending manner."

She didn't read the reply because she already knew how he was going to reply. What a hypocrite.

"We should consider the idea that youth is not actually wasted on the young. That their dramas are no more grand than they should be. That their emotions make perfect sense, once you adjust for inflation." -John Koenig, Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

Six Years Ago

Elizabeta couldn't sleep.  
She just couldn't.  
Not after what had happened.

Tears were in her half-lidded eyes as she stared at the darkness.  
Roderich... Her childhood friend. Someone she had trusted and had all those joyful times with...  
Was gone.

Somewhere she couldn't see and somewhere dark and heavy.  
She knew that, even if it wasn't death. It was somewhere where suffering was commonplace and where safety was an illusion.  
She didn't know how.  
Elizabeta had been seeing things, lately. She had seen little things, at first. A flash of what she was going to have for breakfast the next day. A flash of a penny she'd find on the ground during the day. Nothing major. Just enough to stick in her mind, but little enough to be dismissed.

But then it had come all at once, a terrifying flash of her precious friend, Roderich. She had seen his eyes, wide open and full of terror, and with more fear and suffering then she'd thought she'd ever come across. It was something out of a horror movie, but a thousand times worse because it was him, and she was somehow certain it was real. She knew those eyes would stick with her forever.  
She had been so shaken by the experience that she had ran all the way to his house.  
And he hadn't been there.

Now she saw more flashes.  
Of something bigger, that scared her. Poor, poor Arthur Kirkland...

Then something had come out of the dark.  
And told her rules.  
And offered her a deal, something she would've accepted with no hesitation if not for that extra variable.

Her eyes saw too much and she was so, so afraid.  
No-one should be able to look through the keyholes and cracks in reality, those imperfect places that were everywhere but nowhere in most eyes, no-one should be forced to rip open the seams to reveal something even more horrifying than anything else...

Oh, Roderich.  
Sh-should I...? Am I so awfully selfish, Roderich?

Just because I see a little more...  
I want to make a deal with the devil.

\---

"But there are times when you look up and realize that the plot of your life doesn't make sense to you anymore. You thought you were following the arc of the story, but you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don't understand." -John Koenig, Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows


End file.
